Vercetti Mafia
by Samurai-JCJ
Summary: Vercetti is made a fool of by a new guy in town, so you can bet your ass he won't stand and do nothing.
1. Default Chapter

Authors Note: I would like some reviews on this, a few pointers to get me on track anyway. I havn't writted to many fanfics, but I still write em every three dozen years or so. This fic has language, suggestive themes, sexual content blah blah blah just like all my other shit. No big surprise there. Nuff said, here's my story.  
  
"WHAT!? THAT PUNK DID WHAT!?"  
  
Tommy Vercetti jumped out of his chair, eyes popping, his face twisted into complete fury.  
  
"I swear Mr.Vercetti, that muscled black guy we saw a few weeks ago and a bunch of those other Cuban fuckers just came down here and trashed the whole place up. Before me and the boy's got here, the place was a mess. All the cash is gone, as well as your chopper. As far as we can tell, they havn't taken anything else."  
  
"They took all my Money?! Who is they you dumb shit!?"  
  
"It's like I said Mr.Vercetti, it's that guy we beat up a few weeks ago for messin' with Mercedes."  
  
Tommy cleared his throat and took in a deep breath.  
  
"Who is he? How is he involved with the Cubans?"  
  
"I don't know...sir, all we've been able to find out is that he's got connections with a couple of Cuban Gangs."  
  
Tommy Vercetti smiled. "Well then, I guess we have to pay our good friends the Cubans a visit, don't we? Get a gang together and meet me at the docks. Bring some shit from Phil's, he owes me a favor. He knows what to get. And be there before 10 pm, or you'll be swimming in the ocean like the rest of those Cuban dick heads."  
  
Tommy hung up, sat back down on his chair and looked up at the starry sky. After 3 years, he was living up to his old rival Diaz. He had put on a few pounds, and he was almost developing a spanish accent. He sighed, muttered a curse and got up off his chair and began the long descend of 20 flights of stairs from his penthouse suite.  
  
At 10:03 pm, Tommy drove up to the docks in one of his new cars that was custome disigned personaly for him. Leather seats, Radio station with CD player, 375 hourse power and a v8 engine, he took it wherever he went. It was probably the fastest car in the states. He opened the door and stepped out, assault rifle in hand. He leaned on the open door, surveying the crowd before him. A good 15-20 people, all with assault rifles and a few with rocket launchers. Vercetti smiled. It appeared that Phil remembered the favor after all. He closed his door, and began walking towards his troop. A small figure stood out in front of them all, and Tommy soon realized it was Phil. He was in a motorized wheelchair complete with two machine guns.  
  
"Tommy old buddy! Something tells me there's something hot going down! Whatcha got planned?"  
  
"Were gonna hunt some Cubans tonight Phil, I need to find out who the new guy is."  
  
Phil grinned. "Ohh yeah! I think I might tag along. I sure can't wait to use this ol' baby again!"  
  
Phil motioned to the metal structure attached to the side of his body which he happened to call an "arm". It was more a sub-sonic super weapon, that scared the shit out of most people. He'd only used it once, and it had nearly decimated an entire block.  
  
Tommy furrowed a brow.  
  
"Do me a favor Phil, don't use it unless I tell you to."  
  
Phil's smile wavered a little, but didn't dissapear.   
  
"Well all right. I guess you don't want me to kill everyone eh? Want a little fun for yourself?"  
  
"Yeh something like that. C'mon, were going to one of the Cuban hangouts. They got a big Dance going on tonight. I fully intend to be a party pooper."  
  
Across town, a tall muscular figure was walking down an alley behind a few apartment buildings. A gang was already there, all dressed in black leather. They all froze and stared at him as he walked up. He too was dressed in black, he had long black hair and a long coat that nearly touched the ground. It was difficult to see his face, he appeared to have white skin. He reached the gang and stood motionless, yet most of the people in the group thought they felt something slip past them. One of the gang members looked down at his chest and let out a silent scream; three holes were marked in his chest with blood gushing out each one. One by one, each fell to the ground untill only the figure in black remained, stained with blood. His expression showed no emotion. He stepped over the mass of red and black and continued walking into the growing darkness.  
  
End Chapter One  
  
Well my first Mafia Fanfic. I would like some reviews on this, I don't really care if they are good or bad. Email me at animext1@hotmail.com for q's n' a's. L8r 


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: I do not own GTA; it was created respectivly by Rockstar Entertainment and SCEA. So please folks, do not sue me. I am a poor hobo living in a cardboard box and I just happen to have a $3000 laptop. On to Chapter 2 of Vercetti Mafia!  
  
Tommy leaned on the gas pedal. "Damn those friggin cops," He thought. "So what if I ran over some hobo, not like he had a life except to bug money off of people and hang around bars and strip clubs." An all to familiar siren was sounding; and sure enough a cop car was following them. "Ah fuck it," He muttered. He pulled over, hopefully he could get off easy, and if not just kill the stupid idiot. He was surprised however, when a tall figure stepped out of the police car. He didn't look like a police man; he was fit and wore black clothing. Tommy didn't like the feeling that was growing in his stomache, so he pulled out his 32 calibur pistol. The figure walked slowly towards the car, completely silent. Phil was begining to sweat; small droplets were pouring from his face and dampening his white t-shirt. He began to lift his arm, but suddenly stopped moving. The black figure had at one moment been 10 meters away from the car; now it was standing on top of the hood with some sort of machine gun aimed through the roof.  
  
"GET OUT OF THE CAR!!!" Roared Tommy, and the passangers flew out of the car just as it exploded into flames. Phil was dragged from the explosion by Tommy, and the other two passangers were either unconcious or dead. Phil raised his machine gun arm at the figure beside the burning reckage and fired 50 bullets in less than a second. It had no effect on the monster, who now dissapeared into the smoke and flame, leaving Tommy and Phil stunned on the road with about 10 people lying around, most of them dead.  
  
"Holy Shit..." muttered Tommy. He had never seen someone move so quickly before. This guy had some speed, and he seemed invincible to lethal weapons. He was going to be a problem.  
  
Sirens announced the arrival of an entire police squadron, as well as a few ambulances. Tommy decided it was best that they were not discovered here; he carried Phil into a bar nearby. There he used his Cell to contact the rest of the Mob that the date with the Cubans had to wait, there were bigger fish to fry. "Damn," He thought. "That was my best car too."  
  
Mitch Baker stood at the docks, surveying the traffic going by. "Shoot," he thought. "The bastards left without me. Damn pussys, don't know a thing about patience." He turned around to head for his motorbike, when suddenly he sensed something behind him. Grip tightening around his Brass knuckles, he spun around to meet the figure that stood there. Less than two meters away, a tall figure robed in black stood. "Who the hell are you?" Mitch half shouted. The figure didn't answer, rather it pulled a large pistol from somewhere within it's coat and aimed it at Mitch Baker. Mitch froze, terror building up inside him. "You got issues with me, Mother Fucker? Fight like a man! The figure slowly raised his gun down, then Mitch heard something that sounded like laughter. For the first time, the man spoke: "Fight like a man? Do you mean mortal?" The voice was quiet yet filled with some sort of irrisistable hunger. "A hunger to kill," Thought Mitch. "Yeh, I guess so. What are you, some sort of druggy?" The man laughed, but did not answer. suddenly, he wasn't there. "W-what!?" gasped Mitch. He looked down at his stomache and was horrified to see a large arm sticking out of it. "I won." The words were whispered in his ear, the last sounds he would ever here. His vision blurred; he felt himself falling to the ground. "Damn," He thought. "This sucks ass."  
  
An end to an eventful chapter in the Vercetti Mafia series. No, this killing machine is not involved with the cubans. He is involved in something much more evil. To give you a grasp of what sort of evil this guy is, he makes Tommy look like a saint. No further words needed. See you next chapter. Please R&R or send me an email at animext1@hotmail.com 


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